| It’s coming through a hole in the air
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| From those nights in Tiananmen Square
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| It’s coming from the feel
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| That this ain’t exactly real
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| Or it’s real, but it ain’t exactly there
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| From the wars against disorder
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| From the sirens night and day
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| From the fires of the homeless
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| From the ashes of the gay:
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| Democracy is coming to the U.S.A
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| It’s coming through a crack in the wall
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| On a visionary flood of alcohol
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| From the staggering account
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| Of the Sermon on the Mount
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| Which I don’t pretend to understand at all
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| It’s coming from the silence
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| On the dock of the bay
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| From the brave, the bold, the battered
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| Heart of Chevrolet:
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| Democracy is coming to the U.S.A
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| It’s coming from the sorrow in the street
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| The holy places where the races meet
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| From the homicidal bitchin'
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| That goes down in every kitchen
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| To determine who will serve and who will eat
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| From the wells of disappointment
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| Where the women kneel to pray
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| For the grace of God in the desert here
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| And the desert far away:
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| Democracy is coming to the U.S.A
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| Sail on, sail on
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| Oh mighty Ship of State!
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| To the Shores of Need
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| Past the Reefs of Greed
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| Through the Squalls of Hate
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| Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on
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| It’s coming to America first
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| The cradle of the best and of the worst
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| It’s here they got the range
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| And the machinery for change
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| And it’s here they got the spiritual thirst
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| It’s here the family’s broken
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| And it’s here the lonely say
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| That the heart has got to open
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| In a fundamental way:
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| Democracy is coming to the U.S.A
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| It’s coming from the women and the men
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| O baby, we’ll be making love again
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| We’ll be going down so deep
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| The river’s going to weep
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| And the mountain’s going to shout Amen!
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| It’s coming like the tidal flood
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| Beneath the lunar sway
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| Imperial, mysterious
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| In amorous array:
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| Democracy is coming to the U.S.A
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| Sail on, sail on…
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| I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean
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| I love the country but I can’t stand the scene
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| And I’m neither left or right
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| I’m just staying home tonight
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| Getting lost in that hopeless little screen
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| But I’m stubborn as those garbage bags
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| That Time cannot decay
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| I’m junk but I’m still holding up
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| This little wild bouquet:
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| Democracy is coming to the U.S.A |